Opinion
It is not news to me that women in politics are targeted differently to men. But the frightening and specific stories I heard at the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women in New York last month left me with tears rolling down my cheeks.
An MP in Uganda has men regularly visit her kids’ school, warning their mum to “shut her mouth”. A Thai candidate was targeted by 926 fake Twitter accounts established to attack her character and undermine her anti-corruption campaign. A woman councillor in Brazil was murdered as a warning to others not to speak up against police and militia violence in Rio de Janeiro. A UK MP, Jo Cox, was shot and stabbed outside a library by a man yelling “this is for Britain”.
The message came through with striking consistency: across countries and political cultures, women described patterns of targeted, gendered abuse designed not just to wound, but to drive them out of public life. While the methods vary, the objective does not: silencing women already serving, deterring women considering a run, and narrowing who is willing to participate. Public life becomes too hostile, too punishing, too unsafe. Women for Election sees this at the earliest stage: capable women reconsidering office, recalculating the personal cost.
In Australia, we must heed the international warnings. We like to think of ourselves as resilient: compulsory voting, an independent electoral system, robust traditions. But those strengths can breed dangerous complacency. We are not immune.
We know about the violent death and rape threats levelled at independent federal MP Allegra Spender and NSW Liberal MP Kellie Sloane last year, after they condemned a neo-Nazi rally. Federal minister Anika Wells and her family were also the target of alleged death threats in 2025.
These are just the tip of the iceberg. I am personally aware of dozens of women – from high-profile MPs to local councillors and mayors – who have been regularly and alarmingly targeted online and physically, requiring police intervention. Many have security increased, systems installed at their homes. These incidents are rarely publicised, for fear that attention will escalate the abuse or inspire copycat behaviour.
It’s important to note that while men in politics also face threats and abuse, women are often targeted in ways that are more gendered and sexualised, and more likely to invoke fears for their personal safety and that of their families.
An Inter-Parliamentary Union study of women parliamentarians across the Asia-Pacific region, including Australia, found 60 per cent of those surveyed had experienced online gender-based violence, including hate speech, disinformation, image-based abuse, and doxxing. The same study reported that 76 per cent of women MPs experienced psychological violence.
These figures are alarmingly high and should be understood as a democratic warning sign.
Representative democracy is at its strongest when institutions reflect the communities they serve. Better decisions are made when the widest possible range of experiences and perspectives are at the table. If talented women opt out before preselection, withdraw from campaigns, decline leadership, or leave office early, democracy loses before a ballot is cast.
This is not a partisan issue. The health of democracy is measured not just by whether free and fair elections are held, but by whether diverse people can participate without being systematically driven out.
We must stop framing abuse as a test of personal resilience. Women should not be expected to “toughen up” to endure hostility that deters many qualified candidates. Gendered political violence, especially amplified through digital and social media platforms, is a democratic resilience issue requiring a serious response.
Practical measures exist. Some parliaments, including those in the UK, New Zealand and Canada now have confidential reporting systems, dedicated support services, and stronger anti-harassment codes. The Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) recommends clear complaints mechanisms, sanctions for perpetrators, candidate protection, and institutional support for women.
In Australia, that should mean clearer party protocols, stronger candidate welfare and escalation pathways, better reporting and evidence collection, and closer attention from electoral and digital regulators to campaigns intended to intimidate participation. Parties must support candidates, particularly at entry, where women are most exposed. Platforms should be held to higher standards, and we need better ways to track tech-facilitated abuse.
While Australia still has advantages that many democracies envy, these are not guarantees and our systems are exposed to attack from international forces. Democratic decline rarely happens overnight – it begins with warning signs that seem isolated until the pattern becomes impossible to ignore.
The question now is whether we are prepared to act before the warning signs we see overseas become a reality here.
